


Two Sides of the Same Coin.

by SilverPicassa



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, M/M, implied FrUK
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24294148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverPicassa/pseuds/SilverPicassa
Summary: Love and hate are two sides of the same coin. Alfred works through what Ivan means to him.
Relationships: America/Russia (Hetalia)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	Two Sides of the Same Coin.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a gift for Roswell. Please enjoy, I hope you like it :)
> 
> (this is also my first official fanfic. ahhh!!)

Alfred Jones hated Ivan Braginsky.

How could he not? Their bosses distrusted each other. Their ideals were so fundamentally different, so un-American, so anti-capitalist. Ivan was the personification of Russia and all the bad things it was. How could he not hate him?

He especially hated when he saw him at the world conferences. Alfred had to see Ivan every day during those damn meetings. He had to see Ivan, had to see his beautiful violet eyes, his knowing, quiet smile, and his stupid, dumb, perfectly soft hair. He couldn’t stand it. Alfred hated Ivan. 

And the world just had to know how much Alfred disliked Ivan. The others saw them at the world conferences, trading sly smiles, arguing yet again, and never not looking at each other. They had to see how much Ivan loved sunflowers. Alfred made sure to give them to him every world conference, just to see his face light up, just to see that soft smile again, to see his eyes light up to meet Alfred’s sky blue ones. The others saw it when they saw the two a little too close in what was an empty conference room. 

Alfred hated how tall Ivan was. He hated how Ivan would wrap him in a hug, just to shut him up because he was getting himself worked up again talking about how the government was denying the existence of aliens. The fucking commie wouldn’t let him finish his rants ever, rather choosing to counter Alfred just for the hell of it, or choosing to shove Alfred against the wall and let things go from there. Alfred hated Ivan. 

Don’t even get Alfred started on just how damn beautiful Ivan fucking Braginsky was. It wasn’t like he lived for the moments where they got in an argument and Ivan got all up in his face. He certainly didn’t like how they sometimes got caught up in the heat of the moment, where Alfred would get to see the faded scar on Ivan’s neck. He didn’t like to kiss those scars, and he didn’t like seeing Ivan vulnerable under him. 

All the shouting matches that they had, every fight, every punch thrown, every threat made, none of that could be erased. Alfred would not forget. He was sure Ivan wouldn’t either. Because on the days when they stayed at each other's houses, when the sun was peeking through the curtains and Alfred could perfectly see the way the light gently reflected off Ivan’s ashen blond hair, it was only natural that he would hug Ivan a little tighter. Just to show him how much he despised him. 

Because the hate they had, it was different. Times could be hard sometimes. They argued often, sometimes threats were made, sometimes Ivan left the house in a huff. But things always returned to normal. Ivan would always come back, and his usual line was: “You may be a dumbass, but you’re my dumbass.” 

Whatever that meant.

But no matter how much he insisted to Arthur that he hated Ivan, the stupid brit always smirked, rolled his eyes, and said the same thing. 

“Love and hate are two sides of the same coin. I would know. I’m with the bloody frog.” 

Then Francis would usually start a shouting match. 

Alfred supposed that Arthur had a point. So instead of insisting on hate, he would maybe try love instead. 

So the “I hate you” began to be replaced with awkward instances of “I love you”. It was a rough transition, but they eventually got used to it. Of course, the “I hate you” never fully left. It was uttered occasionally after arguments, after Ivan refused to eat burgers for dinner, and when they were around their bosses. 

But “I love you” came when they woke up together, when Alfred gave Ivan sunflowers, and when they had to depart back to their home countries to be apart for a while. 

I love you began to happen more often, when Ivan would give Alfred a gentle kiss on the forehead, when they spent late nights together, when they drank and laughed and danced. 

The biggest I love you was when Alfred had brought Ivan to a field of sunflowers, got down on one knee, and asked Ivan to spend the remainder of however long they had to live with each other. Ivan said yes. 

So the world began to see how they loved each other. They saw it when at their wedding, Alfred smashed the cake into Ivan’s face, laughing hysterically while Ivan mumbled something about a metal pipe. They saw it when Ivan tolerated the ridiculous speeches that Alfred always gave at the world conferences, sometimes going as far as to shush those talking during those speeches. They saw it when the conferences ran into the night, Alfred and Ivan would often be found outside afterwards, staring up at the moon together and holding hands. 

Looking back, Alfred wasn’t quite sure when the hate definitively turned to love, so he asked Ivan. Ivan looked back quizzically, then smiled.

“Alfred. What are you talking about. Did you not always love me?”

Looking back, Alfred thought Ivan was right. And he thought that Arthur was right too, though he would never let the limey know. 

Love and hate were two sides of the same coin. But love, hate, it didn’t matter to Alfred. All he knew was that he wanted Ivan, now, always and forever. If that was love, than so be it.


End file.
